


Gap Year

by jamjar



Category: Batgirl (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-02
Updated: 2006-07-02
Packaged: 2019-03-09 21:56:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13490583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamjar/pseuds/jamjar
Summary: Gen, written for the fabulousficbyzeefor her birthday, with the equally fabulouspetronelleandbrown_bettyproviding love, support and improvements.  Cass is travelling.





	Gap Year

**Author's Note:**

> Gen, written for the fabulous [](http://ficbyzee.livejournal.com/profile)[ficbyzee](http://ficbyzee.livejournal.com/) for her birthday, with the equally fabulous [](http://petronelle.livejournal.com/profile)[petronelle](http://petronelle.livejournal.com/) and [](http://brown-betty.livejournal.com/profile)[brown_betty](http://brown-betty.livejournal.com/) providing love, support and improvements. Cass is travelling.

Title: Gap Year  
Notes: Gen, written for the fabulous [](http://ficbyzee.livejournal.com/profile)[**ficbyzee**](http://ficbyzee.livejournal.com/) for her birthday, with the equally fabulous [](http://petronelle.livejournal.com/profile)[**petronelle**](http://petronelle.livejournal.com/) and [](http://brown-betty.livejournal.com/profile)[**brown_betty**](http://brown-betty.livejournal.com/) providing love, support and improvements. Cass is travelling.  
No real warnings.  
Comments and criticisms aways appreciated.

Layers and layers, but the first one, the one that shouts to her, is that he is happy to see her, and curious.

Cass shrugs her dufflebag off her shoulders. "Hello." And, because he knows who she is, but not who she is now, she adds, "I'm Cass. Cassandra."

He hesitates, then holds out his hand. "Clark Kent. So are you in town for a reason or just travelling?"

"Just travelling. Visiting, maybe," she adds, looks at him.

He frowns, then his expression clears. "Of course. I-- do you have a place to stay?"

"I can find one," she says, palms out. Don't worry.

"We have a spare room," he says. "You've never met Lois, have you?"

His smile is wide and bright and amused. There's a joke, Cass can see it, but she doesn't know what it is.

"I'm heading over to the office to meet Lois for lunch now," he says. "You want to join me?"

 

 

Lois Lane is sharp. She's not a fighter, but a hunter, looking, curious. Interested.

"You're late, Kent. How can I get you to do my grunt work if you're never around?"

I love you so much, he says when he smiles at her. "Already broke the intern, huh?"

I know, and I love you too. "Interns, no stamina these days. They get shot at once and they start crying." She comes around the desk, kisses him. "So who's this?"

"This is Cass." Cass waits for him to say more, to give cues for her reactions, but he says nothing and smiles at Lois.

Lois narrows her eyes. "A friend? A colleague?" Her voice presses down harder on the last word.

Clark shrugs, the movement casual, easy. Hiding the strength of his shoulders and arms. "An acquaintance, let's say. And a family-friend."

Lois turns to her and smiles. It's bright and a warning. "I'm sorry, my husband was raised in a barn. Cass what? Do you have another name?"

Cass looks at them, at Clark's smile this-is-a-joke, the who-what-where set of Lois's shoulders. Understands.

"Yes," she says. "I do."

The set of Clark's shoulders says approval, says shared amusement. Lois elbows him and Cass smiles at the affection. It's warm and open, sincere. Not just the love, but the understanding of it, the acceptance.

Clark meets her eyes over Lois's head. You've spent too much time in Gotham, he says.

Cass shrugs at him and Lois's eyes narrow at their silent communication. "I'm not psychic," Cass says.

Lois tilts her head to one side. "No? Just out of curiosity, when Clark says that you're a family-friend, does that mean that you're a friend of his family, or he's a friend of yours?"

Cass thinks of Batman, of Kon. "Both," she says firmly

Lois raises an eyebrow. "Hmm. Perry wants you in his office, Clark. Something about the Johnson piece and not getting sued, losing his job, his house and the shirt off his back."

"No sense of adventure," Clark says. "Cass, will you be alright if I leave you alone with Lois?" She's strong, he tells her, and wonderful and terrifying, and I want you to see that, know that.

Cass looks at Lois again. "Probably?"

"Don't worry," Lois says. She grabs her coat from her chair, tosses a notebook in her handbag and smiles. "I almost never make Clark's friends cry anymore."

 

The caf? is covered with large red poppies, painted on to the wall. They know Lois here, their bodies saying that she tips well, that she drinks too much coffee, that she's attractive, that she's tough.

Lois lets Cass sit down. Interesting, Lois says. "So tell me more about yourself. Tea, coffee?" She gestures at a waiter, nods him over and looks at Cass.

"Not much to tell," Cass says. It's not a lie, so much as a joke, a game, and she's sees Lois get it when she sighs and rolls her eyes.

"Do they issue you with a no-comment along with the birth-certificate in Gotham?"

"I wasn't born in Gotham," Cass says.

"So you're from...?"

"All over." Cass smiles at Lois, seeing her narrow her eyes like a cat at a piece of string. "Everywhere," she adds.

The waiter comes over and Lois orders coffee, takes her cue from Cass's hesitation and makes it two. She crosses her arms and stares at Cass, weighing her, assessing her. It's comforting, having that kind of look on her. The waiter brings their coffee just as Lois shakes her head and says, "You're a tease, you know that? Did my husband just bring you here to torment me?"

"I'm a gift," Cass says. "For your birthday."

The waiter almost drops the cup and Lois chokes. Cass is aware that she said something wrong, can guess how the wrongness sounds from Lois's amusement, the waiter's shock and interest, but she's not sure why.

Lois is looking at her like she said something clever on purpose. "Well, he is generous to a fault." She looks at the waiter. "And you know, I think I will have that cherry chocolate cake. With extra whipped cream."

"Uh, yes ma'am." He nods a few times, looks at them, quick glance at Cass -she's hot, she's young, I wonder if they-- and then he retreats to the kitchen, as fast as if Lois had threatened him with a gun.

"I didn't mean that like it sounded," Cass says. "I'm not good with words."

"No? Stick around. Words are our trade. Maybe we can show you a few tricks," Lois says. You're attractive. She says. You're interesting. I want to know more. "So you're not from Gotham, but you've lived there, right?"

"For a while," Cass says. She takes a sip of the coffee. It's fun, this, like training. Attack, defend, speak and say nothing.

 

"Is that where Clark knows you from?"

Cass hesitates. "From shared friends. Shared interests."

"Interests that hang around in dark alleys at night?"

Cass widens her eyes. I'm innocent, she shouts with her face, her hands. "I'm not that kind of girl," she says. The words are familiar, though clumsy in her mouth. Something Steph might say.

"No?" Lois leans in closer, beckons Cass forwards. "I hear they're good at fancy-dress in Gotham, so tell me, Cass," she says, lowering her voice to a stage-whisper, "are you that kind of boy?"

Cass falls back in her seat and laughs. "No, I'm not." She thinks about Tim and makes a gesture at table-height. "I'm too tall," she says.

"Living with Clark warped my sense of size," Lois says. "Anyone that's less than 6"3 and about as broad across the shoulders just registers as tiny to me. Don't tell Batman that. I think it'd upset him."

It's easy enough that it almost escapes her, but Cass catches the words before she says them and changes them. "Batman is shorter?"

Lois holds her hands about an inch apart. "Just a little, but still."

"You know Batman?"

"Hmm. Let's say we met through mutual friends and shared situations," Lois says.

"Exciting," Cass says.

"Oh, I just hate to be bored." Lois's smile is like Clark's, a shared joke. We-know-this-thing-together, it says.

The waiter comes over with their cake and Lois gives him a blinding smile. He looks scared and intrigued and Cass sees Lois's acknowledgement of this, that little touch of her own power.

"You want some?" Lois says.

Cass nods and cuts off a corner with a spoon.

"See, the nice thing about running for your life," Lois says, "is that it does help burn calories. Is it the same for you?"

"I keep fit," Cass says, and takes a large piece with an extra cherry.

"I can see. Not invulnerable," Lois says. Before Cass can ask how she knows, she holds up her hand. "Regular people, if they hold a cup full of coffee, they get a little indentation on their finger where the handle presses against it. Metas and people like Wonder Woman or Power Girl don't."

"You see a lot," Cass says.

Lois tilts her head, acknowledging it. "More than my husband, some days, and that's saying something."

"A lot," Cass says. "You're very lucky," she adds.

Lois smiles. "I know. So Cass--"

"Cassandra Cain," Cass says.

"That's your real name?"

"It's what some people call me," Cass says. Laughs at Lois's expression.

Lois gives and exaggerated sigh. "Okay, let's switch topics. Are you in town for business or pleasure?"

"Just meeting some people," Cass says. "Nothing-- nothing serious."

"Are you staying at a hotel?" Lois aims for the last piece of cake and Cass blocks her with her fork, then cuts it in half as a compromise. "We have a spare room, if you need some where to stay." She looks up. "I know a lot of people don't like staying in strange hotels. You never know when someone's going to throw a party in the room next-door."

"Thank you," Cass says. "That's very-- thank you."

Lois shrugs, uncomfortable with her gratitude. "It's nothing." She checks her watch. "Clark's probably finished being yelled at by Perry by now. We should head back."

 

 

Clark has finished being yelled at by Perry and he meets them at the door to the Daily Planet building. "Did you have a nice time?" he says, he shoulders hunched in to make himself smaller. Cass thinks he could tell, even without being Superman, exactly how Lois feels right now.

"We had a nice little chat," Lois says.

He pushes his glasses more securely on to his face and his expression is deliberately mild. "Find out anything interesting?"

"Well, I guess that all depends what you mean by interesting," Lois says. They look at each other. Bluffing, Cass thinks. Playing. "I said Cass could stay at ours," she says.

Clark shrugs. "That's fine with me. It's your turn to cook tonight anyway."

 

 

The Kent's apartment is high and warm. There are pictures everywhere. Family, friends, and some carefully chosen pictures that would look innocent to outsiders. Clark Kent interviewing the Martian Manhunter. Lois Lane standing next to Power Girl at a conference. Superboy, under a headline and next to an article written by Clark Kent.

The picture of Bruce Wayne surprises her. He stands behind Lois, one arm around her, smiling at the camera. Younger than when she met him. Lois comes over and stands next to her. "Bruce Wayne. You know him?"

"We've met," Cass says. She's grateful for the game, because she doesn't know how to say this completely. "Shared friends," she says, though that's not quite right. "Shared--"

"--Interests. Well, Bruce has always had his hobbies," Lois says.

"You're friends?"

Lois laughs. "You could say that. We dated for a while." She sees Cass's surprise and laughs again. "I know, it's a shocker. I guess I'd say that I know him pretty well. He's a good friend." She looks at the picture with affection. "Not always the best human being in the world, but a good friend." She turns to look at Cass and leans against the shelf, watching her. "If you're not busy, maybe you could go out with Clark tonight."

"Go out?" Cass says, surprised.

Lois nods. "Let him show you the sights. Metropolis is a bit more welcoming to visitors than Gotham. Besides, it's good for him to have company. Someone to watch his back." Lois looks at her like she knows Cass, like she sees her, then she smiles.

 

It's different, patrolling Metropolis, patrolling with Superman. It's brighter and the shadows are sharper, and it makes Cass stand differently. Hold herself differently. The difference, she thinks, between being a shadow and an echo.

Watching him, Cass can see why people don't see Clark when they look at Superman, even though she can see the way they are the same. The differences are many, but so small, Cass thinks people would not see them as differences. Cass understands physical control, can see the differences between the two selves, but she can't tell whether it's Clark Kent or Superman that is that example of self-control. And then she sees him smiles and understands.

He lets her stop a mugging in Metropolis central park, then he holds the ceiling up while she pulls three children and one adult out of a fire, then they take a break on the roof of a local hospital. A nurse comes up to smoke, sees them and freezes. Nods, looks at him like Detective Montoya looked at Batman, reassurance and respect, then she turns her back, leans over the far wall and says, "I should know better."

"Everyone has their weaknesses," Superman says. Tilts his head. "They're looking for you."

"Breaks over already?" She turns and looks at Cass. "If some handsome, charming man offers you a career in the medical profession, punch him and run a while. Stick to the hero thing, trust me."

Cass nods her head, silent in her costume. Hero, she thinks. The woman says it easily, without emphasis or double-layers.

"Ready to head out?" Clark says. He rises off the roof and holds out his hands for her to take.

"Hmm," she says, then gestures for him to turn over. She jumps on to his back, kneels down and crouches low, then taps his shoulder. "Go," she says.

He laughs and she stays like that, knees tucked under her and riding his back. The wind pushes against her, but she feels absolutely secure. They patrol, and she knows the people below can see him, are pointing him out, while she stays tucked away. He dives, and she only had a split second warning before, just enough time for her to tighten her grip. He swoops back up and spirals. Dancing, she thinks. Taps his shoulder. "You and Superboy," she says.

"Hm?"

"You both dance," she says. Bends her head down and presses it against the side of his face.

He shows her Metropolis, and then spreads out. Show her the cities around, then moves over the land and across the sea, stopping near a lake. Isn't it beautiful? He says, silent and smiling for a moment before he hears something and they head back.

A robbery at Star Labs and a fire, 200 miles out of the city, and then back. It's not the same out here. She doesn't have the same sense of place, of feeling the city curve around her like a friend, an enemy, but there is something. Superman's acknowledgement, complete and unthinking. It's something like working in Bl?dhaven, independent, but also like working in Gotham, partnered.

 

 

They eat breakfast earlier than she's used to, the sunlight streaming through the window and pouring over the table. The milk tastes good, but different to what she's used to.

"From the farm," Clark says, proud as when he showed her his city.

"Mmm. Did you get any of those biscuit things?" Lois says. "Or the--" There's a rush of air and Clark is gone. Cass blinks and Lois smiles. "There's this place on the west coast where they do these biscuit for breakfast. Not as good as Alfred's pancakes, maybe, but damn close." I know you, Lois says when she looks at her. Do you know yourself?

Clark is back, dropping a brown paper bag on the table. "So, Cass, are you planning on sticking around?" He says.

Cass shrugs. "I don't know. There's a lot to see." She gestures at the city, the world. "I don't know... I don't _know_."

Lois looks at her like Babs does, sometimes. Memories that are good or hurt or both. _You're so young,_ they say. _You're me._ "I wanted to go into politics for a while," Lois says. "Until I realised I hated most politicians. And then I travelled around with a band." She looks at Clark, smiles like a secret. "I was a roadie," she says.

Clark looks at her over his glasses. "You always say that, but you never give me any details."

"Confidentiality clauses," Lois says. "And natural discretion."

Clark laughs, ducks his head and looks younger, looks like Kon when he's not trying so hard to be himself. "I travelled a bit too," he says. "Went north, went south. Tried to figure out who I was, where I came from and what it all meant."

"And you found out?" Cass asks.

He hesitates. Shrugs. "I was closer to it at the end then the beginning, I think. And I got to see some incredible things, meet some incredible people. It made me-- different, than I was before. More like myself, maybe. I wouldn't be the person I am now if I hadn't done it."

Cass nods. "It's good. The person you are now-- it's good."

He looks embarrassed again, even more so when Lois looks at him and says, "Well, I'm fond of him, anyway." She checks her watch. "And we're need to think about heading out now if we�fre going to ambush--"

"Interview, Lois, the word is interview."

"-- _Interview_ Senator Little before he leaves for that tour of Indonesia." She gets up, puts her dishes in the sink, moves past Clark while he puts the milk and butter away. I know who I am, she says, checking her reflection in the mirror, tugging her suit into place. "Where are my--"

"Where you left them, under the--"

"You're not wearing that tie, are you? Come on, Smallville, we're going to tear the man to shreds. A nice tie is just common courtesy."

They rush around and Cass gets her own stuff together, rolling up her trousers, her costume and fitting it in to her bag. Lois stops, looks at her for a moment. "If you're in town again..." she says, gestures an invitation.

Clark's hand is on Cass's shoulder, there without her realising it. "I know you know where my parents live, but just in case, if you're in Kansas again..." he gives her a piece of paper. "Their address, phone-number and email."

Cass nods, tilting her head forward to cover her face. "I-- thank you," she says. "It's very kind of you to do... everything."

"Ah, hell." Cass looks up to see Lois head to a cupboard and take something out. "Here. I'm sure you don't need it, but... It's military issue, a present from one of my dad's old colleagues." She presses a taser into Cass's hands. "Switch it on here and-- well, I'm sure you can figure it out." She gives a half-smile. "Think of me when you use it."

They drop Cass off at the transport station. It's early, the streets nearly empty in the bright, morning sun. She heads in. There are posters everywhere, bright, confusing. Lists of words and times, some she can recognise, some she can't, and one open sales counter.

She hesitates, then leans over the counter. "Where's a good place to go?" _Home_ , he says, yawning, so she adds, "Someplace different."

He shakes his head, trying to wake up. "I always wanted to go to Hawaii. Maybe Costa Rica or someplace exotic like that." _Dream,_ he tells her, and _maybe next year._

"Can I buy a ticket?"

He straightens up, looks at her. Worried for her, excited for her. _Wish I was that young._ "Not direct, but�c You travelling with anyone?" Cass shakes her head and sets her shoulders. I'm strong, she tells him, sees him relax, even without knowing what she's saying. He types something on his computer. "I can get you a ticket on a train across to Mexico, Me-hi-co, that's how they say it down there. Have to change a couple of times, but it gets you closer. Or there's a bus that leaves in a few hours, takes you to Las Vegas. You can get cheap flights from there sometimes. I can print you out the details�... There."

Cass nods. Shuts her eyes for a moment, then taps a name on the paper.

"You sure?"

"Yes," she says. Breathes in deeply. "And I can always go somewhere else."

_Costa Rica,_ he thinks as he prints out her ticket. _This summer, definitely Costa Rica._ "You have fun, and be careful out there."

"I will," she says. "Promise."

She puts the ticket in her pocket, adjusts the weight of her bag, and heads out.

 

End.


End file.
